


Tested Metal

by SixtyThreeNineteen



Category: Kenshi (Video Game), 黒獣～気高き聖女は白濁に染まる～ | Kuroinu: Kedakaki Seijo wa Hakudaku ni Somaru (Anime)
Genre: All skeleton playthrough, Enslaving evil people, Gen, It's Kenshi, Morally Ambiguous Character, Using evil people as training dummies for your new recruits, Why Did I Write This?, mods
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:40:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28147725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SixtyThreeNineteen/pseuds/SixtyThreeNineteen
Summary: The war between the Seven Shields and the Black Dogs has begun. Following Olga Discordia's escape towards the Kingdom of Eostia, news begins to reach the Alliance of strange metal men who have taken over an abandoned village. This strange, new faction has shown itself to be merciless and just as unscrupulous as the Black Dogs and have established themselves as a mighty gang in the Badlands near Eostia's northern borders. Despite this, High Queen Celestine the Fair seeks to commission them for their aid in the war against the Black Dogs.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

I

The Breath of the World

_(Taken from the pages of **Tested Metal: The Chronicles of New Sargon** , the quintessential writings on the subject of Eregesh and his band of metal men written by Klaus Levantine, husband of Claudia Levantine.) _

_The exact date of Sargon's beginnings cannot be really ascertained but it is surmised that they have been here for quite a while after some strange event that had caused them to cross from their plane to ours. The inhabitants of this small, independent outpost as it was called are a race of automatons known as Skeletons. A marvel in this world of ours but they are insular to the extreme and not much has been told to me by its leaders. Regardless, they are fully capable of feeling anger, excitement, empathy, enjoyment and compassion. Incapable of expressing emotion, the Skeletons of Sargon possess personalities much like us humans and elves although a dry sense of humor is a common manifestation as are certain neuroses. They bear no prejudice against death, and feel no fear at dealing it. The Skeletons of Sargon are fearsome warriors all, bearing all types of blades of curious make._

_Their leader is Eregesh, the Master of Sargon. Apparently a skilled martial artist, although he (note that Skeletons do not have genders, although they usually pick one for the sake of the 'fleshier races' ) repeatedly affirms that he is not the best. That title apparently belongs to another, someone who evidently belongs in the Old World where Sargon and its inhabitants came from. Eregesh is one who values his privacy, a cold individual who works hard for the pay and does not suffer treachery lightly. He is a mercenary at heart with questionable morals at best and is an outright villain at worst. He does, however, honor his contract and does not increase the rate that he gives, even if it is already substantial..._

_He may not be the best swordsman and neither is he the swiftest or the strongest but he is certainly the most dangerous Skeleton in Sargon. Eregesh is pragmatic to the core, in battle and his dealings with the Alliance. There are many who dislike his methods but cannot deny that, as amoral as they are, they get results._

* * *

_**The Badlands, Northern border of the Kingdom of Eostia...** _

Some things never really changed, and that was true for a Skeleton like Eregesh. The Skeleton ducked the greenskin's mighty swing with its short blade and punched it twice in the chest, completely shattering bones and rupturing organs. As the orc staggered, already dying due to extreme internal trauma caused by the Skeleton's fists Eregesh spun and broke its neck with a well aimed round house kick, the metal foot crunching and cracking muscle, bone and brain. Eregesh moved on from his last victim, turning his head to watch as his band overwhelmed the greenskins. This...was irritating, raid after raid had caused interruptions with their scavenging. The abandoned village they found looked homely enough and there was not a sign of life anywhere near them. It was perfect, as far as Eregesh knew it could be a second home to his band of rusty, old Skeletons. 

Still, it wasn't all bad. Months of living on the move here and in the Old World had taught Eregesh that everything would always try to kill them. It was a lesson hard taught, and one Eregesh was neither grateful or resentful for; it was the way of things back home and it probably would be here in this strange hereafter. Even Burn was still having a hard time trying to figure that out and while Burn had hope that he would be able to figure out just what exactly sent them to this strange place, Eregesh wasn't so optimistic. 

The Skeleton stopped himself. Shit, he was starting to sound like Sadneil. 

"Boss." 

Eregesh turned to the hulking form that was his second in command. Karoz, unlike Eregesh, had no interest in philosophy or the purpose of life. He was, as always, a silent and indomitable figure that got the job done in an unimaginative way. Eregesh was willing to compromise, but Karoz was relentless compared to Eregesh. Eregesh appreciated his unimaginative ways, made it simple when negotiating a contract or selling goods to slippery merchants who thought they were being clever. 

"Karoz." Eregesh nodded his head. They spoke as all Skeletons did, no emotion whatsoever. It was one of the many reasons the fleshier races were distrustful of them. The Holy Nation killed skeletons on sight, and Eregesh found it prudent to often return their hostilities in kind. Were they also here? Probably not, but he was not about to throw caution to the wind and move openly. The fleshier races often feared what they did not understand or was not like them...so Eregesh kept them at arms' length. It would end in tragedy if he allowed them to get closer. 

"We killed everything." Karoz's tone was a deep, bass rumble. He rarely spoke but when he did it could catch the attention of a room. Eregesh did not take his few words lightly and neither did the rest of the group. "N23 wants to scout out our perimeter to make sure that there aren't stragglers." 

"What of their weapons? Can we put them in a stockpile for salvage later?" 

Karoz shook his head at Eregesh's question. "They're made of wood. And most of them are rusted scraps." 

Eregesh shrugged. He wasn't expecting to get lucky outright but here they were. "What of the village itself?"

"Rough. Abandoned." Karoz replied. "But defensible if built up right. We do not have much on the Processor Units, but a few building materials and a stock of iron plates. N22 and Stubbs are doing preliminary prospecting. We might get lucky, according to N22 but Stubbs wants to make sure." 

"Tell them to keep at it." Eregesh said as he looked at the abandoned village. "I still like this place though. Where is Gyran and the Rangers?" 

"Set up on the rooftops, they change shifts periodically." Karoz replied as he and Eregesh began walking. Eregesh looked at the door to a ruined house, swinging idly in the wind. It was starting to look like rain. "I have Vortiger and Crusher at the obvious road to the south to keep watch for intruders. I believe Gyran is posted on a rooftop overlooking them." 

"Good," Eregesh commented. "Good...We'll stay isolated but after that we're gonna need to take a prisoner from whatever raid comes next." 

"These...greenskinned humanoids seem incapable of speech." Karoz said, sounding unsure. 

"We'll find one that can speak. Eventually. I can be patient." 

Karoz bowed his head obediently, knowing he was dismissed. Eregesh let the other ILM skeleton move on and looked over at their new domain. If he was capable of it, he would have smiled. A new beginning...He was quite intrigued at what fate had in store for them but at the same time a new beginning meant more opportunities. Selling weapons, grog...maybe they could cash in on the Hash trade again? Eregesh found a spot and leaned against the wall as he caught sight of the setting sun. 

"Well, shit." 


	2. Fertile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The badlands were the home of those exiled from the Goddess Reborn's realm. For the Skeletons of New Sargon, the badlands weren't that much different from the world they left behind. And so, Eregesh leads his skeletons into a meteoric rise as the most notorious gang in Eostia. The first steps were, of course, construction and consolidation of resources.

II

Fertile

_(Taken from the pages of **Tested Metal: The Chronicles of New Sargon** , the quintessential writings on the subject of Eregesh and his band of metal men written by historian Klaus Levantine, husband of Claudia Levantine) _

_Few Black Dogs who are still alive in the dungeons of Ken would never forget the name of New Sargon's second in command. Karoz, commonly known by his epithet as the Butcher of Hounds, is another Skeleton well known in New Sargon. Where Eregesh is cunning and pragmatic, Karoz is relentless and direct. Eregesh sends Karoz if something needs to be done quickly and efficiently or, when sufficiently irritated, wants someone dead. Possessing immense strength and speed, Karoz is considered by many in New Sargon as its best warrior, even among peers such as the cheerful N22 and the dour handed Vortiger. Karoz is a man known for violent action, and was always seen at the forefront grinding his foes beneath his feet. There are many who deem him stronger than even Claudia, although Karoz does not enjoy the limelight and finds the thought of fame an irritant._

_Eregesh is usually the face of New Sargon, if that is so then Karoz is considered Sargon's fist._

* * *

"New Sargon...Really, boss?" 

Karoz turned his gaze towards N23. The screamer unit then shrugged his shoulders, burdened as they were by the straps of his backpack. Standing in the abandoned bar that was designated as New Sargon's central building, Eregesh had called the leading Skeletons in for a meeting. The good thing about this abandoned mess of a village was that there was a lot of used furniture that was still serviceable. Karoz turned his attention back to Eregesh who crossed his arms. 

"If anyone has any other names..." Eregesh said, although even he sounded sheepish as to his unoriginality. 

"No one's going to make fun of you boss. It took you weeks to make up the first outpost's name." N22, chipper as ever, spoke in a high pitched tone resembling an eager young woman's. She considered N23 her sibling, strange as it was, but Karoz knew she felt a deeper empathy than she let on. She could be particularly spirited in battle, and as one of the fastest she was often the 'Rabbit' that got the enemy's attention. Karoz took over from there before the siblings could start their bantering. It was amusing but they really needed to get going. 

"Gyran," Karoz said. "Your ammunition?" 

The Loghead made a sound akin to an exhalation. "Still at a good place, but if we don't start our own production soon we'll be shite out of luck." 

"That is on the list as well, but I hear that Stubbs found us an iron mine nearby."

Gyran nodded in appreciation. "A good find, that." He said. 

"What of security?" Eregesh then turned to N23, who was usually roaming around with a squad of those not doing labor checking their perimeter. "Any signs of another raid? Or do we have to chase off any locals?" 

"Caught sight of a human child, he ran off before we could catch him." N23 admitted. "Sorry, boss." 

To his credit Eregesh didn't lash out. He could, but that would prove to everyone that he was not worthy of leading. Karoz could see the gears turning in Eregesh's head, the ILM was already pondering what challenge this could pose to their new outposts. Karoz was ready for a fight if Eregesh called for it but maybe not. Eregesh could also be calculating a new market in this strange hereafter, whether for mercenary work, smithing or the illicit drug trade they managed to wrestle into. It was going to be a bitch to secure a source of hemp though...and if the neighbors didn't like narcotics they were going to have to smuggle it in again. He was sure Stem was going to like making another connection to either a thieves guild or more scrupulous characters that they could...well, N22 considered 'exploit' such a naughty word. Karoz liked 'coerce' better but he guessed that it sounded more dignified that way. 

"It's nothing." Eregesh said. "We'll find out soon enough if we have Holy Nation fanatics knocking at our door...or we might be getting some neighbors." He chuckled. "Still, we're in a better spot than we used to be. The walls are about to be set up, the gate's already there. Now all we need to do is stock up on our resources." 

Eregesh turned to Gyran. "The ammunition is a concern, I understand that. So I will leave it to your discretion. Take stock of everything we have, even the reserves on the Processors." 

Gyran nodded and went to work as soon as he was dismissed. 

"N22, 23 continue on your roving patrols." Eregesh nodded at the siblings. "If it is hostile..." 

"...We kill it. Got it." N22 nodded her head. 

Karoz knew the meeting was done. So he left to do his own thing. Eregesh had his duties. He also had his own, he may have been the second in command but he was not one to lord it over the others. He would sometimes join the siblings on their patrols but most of the time he helped Crusher, Bruiser and Crank at the gates or Stubbs at the research bench, or maybe even mining. Karoz walked through town, seeing the walls incomplete but soon surrounding the abandoned village as the Skeletons of Sargon began to bring their outpost to life. He saw Bombingham and his crew finish off another section. Posted on the rooftops was Gyran and the crew of rangers under his command, their weapons held at the ready.

He thought about talking to them but they needed no distractions. Once the walls were set up, they'd have to start on watchtowers soon enough. Sadneil was going to bitch again about construction duty but he bitched all the time. He was solid and reliable, it was just his tedious mouth that was irritating. 

_Twang!_

Karoz heard a crossbow going off. "Attack!" He roared at Bombingham's crew, as he heard the clash of metal. He sensed that Crusher was already engaging. The hulking KLR series were tough, and capable of fending off threats until the others arrived. Karoz quietly pulled the Moon Cleaver off of the harness on his back.

Great. He was itching for a fight. 


	3. By the blade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The walls of New Sargon are now up. As Eregesh's gang of skeletons begin their operations, there are those whose greed will surpass their more important functions of self preservation. Now New Sargon must defend itself from those who wish to take what they can't have. 
> 
> With both the blade and the crossbow.

III

By the Blade

_(Taken from the pages of **Tested Metal: The Chronicles of New Sargon** , the quintessential writings on the subject of Eregesh and his band of metal men written by Klaus Levantine, husband of Claudia Levantine.) _

_N22 and her "sibling" N23 are considered a duo, one is never seen without the other at all times during times of peace and times of war. The pair often banter, but it is all in good fun as stated by N22. Where N22 is cheerful and eager, N23 is brash and confident. Both are members of New Sargon's ruling council, responsible for every decision that involves the governing of their outpost in times of peace and often times what actions New Sargon must take when it must march to war. In either case, it is Eregesh who makes the decision although he does take the words of everyone under him seriously before making a decision._

_N22, as her remit, usually agrees with Eregesh's decisions. Responsible for the trade goods, she is at the heart of New Sargon's cactus rum distillery and has been making it for the last few years. Sargon Cactus Rum is a rather popular drink these days, a fact that gives N22 a sense of pride whenever she sees the caravans going off to sell their stock to various towns, inns and merchants who come by to trade are often surprised by her eagerness. This doesn't mean that she is naïve to the ways of bargaining however, N22 is sharp as the blade she carries. There have been those who thought that an automaton had no business getting into business. N22 can and will defend the interests of New Sargon from those who believe that they can just take what they want and damn the consequences._

_N23, in comparison, usually does the opposite and questions the wisdom of some of Eregesh's decisions and acts as the naysmith of the ruling council. In spite of his affable nature, N23 has a sharp sense for things that can and will go wrong. If he feels that a decision is unwise and may bring about negative consequences he does not hesitate to speak out. Such a thing is almost unheard of in our kingdom and those who think of speaking in such a way to the nobility in Eostia risks their death or imprisonment. Although, such reactions by visiting dignitaries to Sargon have ceased entirely whenever N23 is involved. N23 is a competently fearsome swordsman. Like N22, N23 oversees the trade caravans of Sargon that ships their product to the Seven Shields Alliance._

* * *

_**The Gates of New Sargon, the Badlands on the Northern border of Eostia...** _

The screams of the dying. The buzzing of flies. Sadneil whining about "dumb, messy fleshbags with a deathwish." The usual sounds of the aftermath of a battlefield. 

N22 made a sound the equivalent of a sigh as she observed thralls from Bombingham's crew begin throwing the corpses of the human bandits out and away from the gates. "This...is ridiculous." She said to N23 who was passing by, cleaning the wavy blade of his desert saber. "This has been...the tenth time this month that we've been raided." The SLM model skeleton shook her head. "How are Bombingham and his crew supposed to finish their construction when we've got hordes of savages pounding away at our gates constantly!" 

"It happened back then, it's happening now. Why are you so surprised about this?" N23 replied to her question with his own. "I thought you liked the excitement?" 

"Not when everything isn't set up yet." N22 shook her head again as one of the thralls drew its sidearm, an iron mace, and clubbed the struggling human's head and caved it in before throwing the corpse over its shoulder. N22 gave another sigh. "Well...if there is one thing at least Happy and Sappy have a lot of limbs to enjoy..." 

Both Bonedogs were Eregesh's personal hounds. Back in the Old World, when the Holy Nation would send their warriors to test themselves against Sargon's walls, Eregesh often made the leading Inquisitor or Paladin watch as he fed their lost limbs to the Bonedogs before having them left outside to die of starvation and exposure. The Holy Nation had a special hatred for Skeletons. Eregesh found it prudent to give them the same treatment, it was only fair after all. For every atrocity attempted by the Okranite dogs, Eregesh replied in kind. N22 had been there when they razed the Holy farms and mines, causing the Holy Nation no small amount of grief in the process. 

"There they go," N23 nudged his head in the direction of barking as two black furred missiles rushed downhill towards the field of corpses being cleaned up by Bombingham's crew of Thralls and other Skeletons who joined to work hard labor and had chosen to follow Eregesh even here. 

N22 giggled as Happy got the first limb, causing Sappy to start barking and chase after her. "Eregesh spoils those two too much." She commented. 

N23 just hummed in agreement. "Well, the Boss wants us present at the meeting after he speaks to the prisoner." He said, shrugging his shoulders burdened as they were with his backpack and the heavy armor he wore day to day. 

"Who's he got with him?" N22 asked, looking surprised.

"Stem." 

_Dear_ _me..._ N22 thought to herself. Stem was one who was considered a torturer and was very good at his job. The Boss must be quite impatient with how many raids New Sargon had endured. Such was the way of things however, there were many men who always wanted to take what they cannot have. And it was up to you to defend yourself from such men. Eregesh was very good at it, hell they all were. From getting beaten up by starving bandits and other lowlives to fending off the Holy Nation's attempts to wiping them off the map, Eregesh and his band had seen it all. Perhaps now, it was time for change. Perhaps Eregesh would have them march to conquest. Power was power, you could not change your situation completely without it. N22 looked at the hustle and bustle of their outpost before she followed N23 on his patrol around the perimeter. 

* * *

Ishmael knew he deserved the best in life. The finest food. The finest women, clothes, drink. Everything he could ever want. Hence why he was satisfied when he joined up with the cause of the Black Dogs, hurling the men in his command at the distant villages of the Seven Shields Alliance, taking what woman he wanted. Ishmael was once a lowly soldier who always looked up in jealousy at the Seven Shields, those contemptible women who held high rank and had never fought a hard battle in their lives. What he would give to have one of them in his bed, relieving him of his daily stresses...

His luck turned around when the Black Dogs came back, ready for a war of conquest against the Seven Shields, so that those men who followed Vault into battle would live like kings. Ishmael had thought it too good to be true but months of successful slave raids against the Seven Shields in the Badlands had changed his views. Until now, he could not wait to get into Eostia proper to see the Princess Knights on their knees. To see Celestine Lucross the Fair defiled and dirtied like the good little elf slut he knew her to be. Those thoughts were gone now, as his bloodshot eyes streamed tears of pain when his weight dragged him down. His skinless hands had been nailed to a crude wooden cross and he had a rough cloth sack over his head. He knew he was inside a building sweltering as it was. 

"Hmm. Hmm. Hmm." 

Ishmael moaned in fear as he heard it. The buzzing, almost nasally voice of his tormentor. His band had been one of many who had been massacred after news reached him of a group of strangers raising up an abandoned village. He wanted some plundering so he took his mates out for a raid, thinking it would be another weakling villager who had too much hope in his head to think that he could rebuild the ruins up here. The Black Dogs were in charge, and it was up to men like Ishmael to make sure that the dwellers of the Badlands knew it. 

"You humans are quite tough. Hmm. Hmm. Hmm." The nasally voice was closer now and Ishmael felt the sack taken off of his face, revealing what had been once a sneering, broad face like a brute but now bruised and pulped by the tortures perpetuated by a monstrous individual. Said individual was one of the Skeletons of Sargon, an ST-M model 3 known as Stem. Dressed in a dark, grey Dustcoat Stem's insect like features held no emotion hidden as they were by the shadows caused by the single torch post and by the chain hood he wore over his head. The hilt of a katana poked over his shoulder. Ishmael looked to the side, seeing the devastated and disfigured bodies of some of his men. He had no doubts they were dead or dying soon. He was among the last who survived the failed raid. 

Now...he was nothing more than chattel. 

"Look at me." 

Ishmael snapped his head forward, gazing into the insect eyes of the torturer. "Hmm. Hmm. Hmm." The torturer made that sound, causing Ishmael to start sobbing. "Crying already? Were you not the one who led these fleshies into battle, human? Why are you crying now?" 

"You skinned my hands, you metal bastard!" Ishmael sobbed. "You killed my men! You think the Black Dogs will let you get away with this?!" 

"Hmm. Hmm. Hmm." The torturer turned his attention back to the table of bloody, sharp instruments and tools, and then the leather armor emblazoned with the cheap knockoff of Vault's personal emblem, a black snarling hound. "I see...This would be quite amusing, as there is another faction I am familiar with that has that name...I know I am wrong though..."

"Hmm. Hmm. Hmm. Quite a coincidence, but I think not." The torturer began pacing, humming again as he began rubbing his chin. "Hmm. Hmm. Hmm...The Boss would like to hear about this...But you haven't told me everything yet." 

Ishmael struggled, screaming in pain and horror as Stem unsheathed the wakizashi at his side. "No! NO! I told you what I know! D-Don't! Don't hurt me!!"

"Hmm. Hmm. Hmm." Stem's reply was chilling in its emotionless delivery as he brought the wakizashi close to Ishmael's face. "Tell me again who are the Black Dogs, fleshbag. If you do not, I will peel off your face and use it to clean this blade." 

The bandit screamed in horror. 

"Hmm. Hmm. Hmm." 

* * *

Outside of the most distant house in the outpost, a Thrall from Bombingham's crew registered the sound of someone wailing in pain and horror. Reprogrammed and taken from its far more cruel masters, the headless Thrall instantly dismissed the noise as a distraction before it continued on its journey to the iron mine to begin its ceaseless toil for iron ore to be used in New Sargon's industry. 


	4. Conquest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New Sargon begins its aggressive expansion. As Eregesh leads his band into battle, he sees firsthand the devastation the Black Dogs have wrought so far and also learns of the situation his faction has found itself in. It is not all bad however, a new situation means new opportunities to exploit for profit.

IV

Conquest

_(Taken from the pages of **Tested Metal: The Chronicles of New Sargon** , the quintessential writings on the subject of Eregesh and his band of metal men written by Klaus Levantine, husband of Claudia Levantine.) _

_We come now to the subject of Stem, another member of Sargon's ruling council. If Karoz is considered the fist of Sargon, then Stem is Sargon's dagger. There are few men, noble or peasant, who would not fear the name of this Skeleton. Unlike Stubbs, who turns his intellect to bettering the lives of others or of Burn who archives the history of Sargon's people, Stem turns his talents to far more bloodier and more terrifying agendas. When a Black Dog commander has proven himself stubborn or a traitor noble too arrogant Eregesh sends them to his personal torturer and interrogator. Stem...is politely spoken, even gentlemanly in public. Soft-spoken, distant and emotionless the STM model three can be considered a morally dubious individual and is a competent torturer and interrogator who relishes breaking men who believe themselves to be untouchable._

_His place on the ruling council concerns the actions and the intent of the allies and enemies of New Sargon, it is he who sifts through the rumors and stories to find a nugget of important information that involves the fortune or destruction of New Sargon. Stem relishes his work as spymaster and it is his eye that keeps its malicious sight on all that would threaten Sargon. Few would willingly attract that gaze as Stem enjoys the thrill of the chase even more so than breaking men._

* * *

_New Sargon, the Badlands on Eostia's northern borders..._

The meeting began in earnest. 

"What have you found out, Stem?" Eregesh asked his interrogator, petting Happy's bony head while the Bonedog whined. Off to the side, Sappy was worrying at an arm bone obviously basking in his newly gained superiority. N22 had taken pity on the younger Bonedog and threw him a bone, literally so to speak. Stem, sitting at his place at the table, leaned forward and placed his hands in a steeple. Like many of the Combat Crew, Stem's limbs weren't his original parts. Having lost one arm to a High Paladin of the mighty Holy Nation Stem replaced his left arm with a prosthetic. 

"The leader's name was Ishmael." Stem spoke softly, but loud enough for everyone to hear. Inside the barn that now served as New Sargon's headquarters the atmosphere was hushed despite the hustle and bustle in the outpost proper as Bombingham, his reprogrammed Thralls and his work crews continued bringing their industry to life. Already there were watchtowers overlooking the gates with crossbow turrets mounted up. Penlan and his secondary squad of rangers, alongside those turret guards assigned to picket duty were keeping a watchful eye over the entrance to their home. "He is a leader of a band of bandits who...own their own establishment a few kilometers east of here. He works for a mercenary group known as the Black Dogs." 

At that, N23 made a snorting sound and crossed his arms. "Not the same group from home, I take it?" He asked Stem directly. "It's already weird enough in this strange hereafter..." 

"It would be obvious that they aren't the same." N22 answered. "Anything else you found out, Stem? Before or after you carved him up?" 

Stem relayed what he knew and Eregesh now knew that their strange hereafter had a name: Eostia, a war torn country that had two belligerents...the very same Black Dogs Ishmael worked for and the Seven Shields Alliance, consisting of seven kingdoms allied to fight against a single mercenary group. Eregesh was grateful for information...but was this surely it? While Stem did do good work, the information he learned was sorely lacking although he still had much to consider. He tapped the rough metal table with a finger while petting Happy, who sat on her haunches and leaned her head against his sitting box. Eregesh was not surprised about the war; it was something he was used to seeing as he had interceded in several conflicts between the Holy Nation and the Shek Kingdom, even fighting with the United Cities Samurai on a basis during their travels through the region of Bast. It was good mercenary work, but taking on an entire alliance for free? 

The only reason he went to war with the Holy Nation was because they struck first. He definitely was curious now. "So...the Black Dogs are apparently large enough to threaten a country by itself? They must have some serious Cats to pull something like that off." Eregesh commented. 

"Gold." Stem corrected him softly. 

"Hmm?" 

"They do not use the Cat as currency, Boss." Stem said. "They use gold coins as currency here." 

"Gold?" Karoz spoke up, amused despite his toneless delivery. "Now that's something I haven't seen or heard of in a long, long time." 

"So our money...is useless?" Eregesh stated. He chuckled ruefully. "Well, damn. That's a quite a blow..." He let out an exhalation. "Regardless, we continue moving forward. Stem...you say that Ishmael has a band that owns an establishment?" 

"A small hamlet, boss." Stem replied. "Is...something going to happen?" 

Eregesh tapped the table again then stood up, prompting everyone to turn their attention to their leader. Neither the mightiest Skeleton or the swiftest, Eregesh lead his faction through ruthless efficiency but at the same time held a deep loyalty to the individuals he led to prosperity, even the Skeletons they imprisoned knew they were in safe hands should they decide to work for him. Eregesh did not consider himself a savior for all, he only cared about those he took under his wing. The ILM Mark II looked at each member of his designated ruling council, he leaned a hand on the table as he began to speak. 

"Assemble the Combat Crew." He told them all. "For a long time, we have been on the defensive, only acting in order to protect what we have worked so hard to achieve. The Old World taught me that to prosper means to take what you cannot have, that you must claw your way to the top by any means necessary. These lands are full of bandits. Let's teach them what it means to take what they cannot have." 

"Pillaging Boss?" N23 asked. "I thought that you were beneath such things." 

"Oh no, no, no...we're not pillaging. We are... _liberating_ for profit." Eregesh shook his head with humor. 

"Ah...Liberating..." N22 chuckled. "Right...We should probably get started." 

On that day, the Badlands of Northern Eostia would soon learn to fear the name of Sargon. 

* * *

As a Quartermaster of New Sargon, Sadneil was responsible for making sure their supplies were in order. Standard procedure was to take either the Gru or the Bill Dozer out alongside Chompy and Spindly, their Processor Tankers. Sadneil made a long, drawn out sigh as he looked at his handiwork. He had no idea what exactly he had gotten into when Eregesh had walked into the Black Desert City all those years ago, but he knew he was bad news. Having spent years gallivanting on dangerous adventures in the Old World, from establishing an outpost near Cannibal country to fighting a devastating conflict with the Holy Nation, Sadneil thought he had seen it all. 

"I'm too old for this shit." He muttered to himself. 

"Sadneil, you ready buddy?" 

Sadneil turned his head, servos clicking as he turned to the other Skeleton. Crusher was a hulking KLM model, standing nearly over nine feet tall and had the might of ten Wild Bulls. Despite his pants shittingly terrifying presence, he was actually quite the swell guy. He fought as hard as they come, but one of his surprising talents was...gardening of all things. He also apparently enjoys making hats, a fact that almost all of their Rangers were happy about. He even made N22 a bandanna, which she took to wearing every single day and gushed about it. It was said that his goal was to give a pair of matching hats to the Bonedogs, but it was a secret...apparently. 

"Oh yes, of course I'm ready." Sadneil's reply was sarcastic. "I'm the guy making sure the supplies are ready, so yeah that was fun. Aren't we going out to kill bandits? It's not like we have been for so long..." 

Crusher chuckled, which sounded like a Leviathan making a run at you. "Always so pessimistic, friend. We're finally making a new path for ourselves. Surely this is something to celebrate?" 

"I don't like parties." Sadneil harrumphed. 

Crusher rumbled again as he clapped Sadneil's shoulder. A normal human would have had his own shoulder dislocated. Sadneil hardly noticed but he was still irritated. 

"Well...here's to us then." Sadneil turned back to his duties, ignoring the snort from the Bill Dozer, their Pack Bull. 

* * *

The hamlet known as Fortune was once a small typical village but its people were happy. Times had changed, and the war had caused difficulties for those families who made a life here...these families were descendants of those who had been banished from the Goddess' realm for a slight now lost to history. Now...it was nothing more than a pleasure pit for the band of bandits under Ishmael's gang. It had been a happy time for Ishmael and his men who used the women of this village as playthings, even attracting the orcs that the Black Dogs had taken in to supplement their numbers as they raided the Kingdom of Eostia. They were tough, hardened men used to a life of raiding weaklings and those who could not protect themselves. None of them, even the orcs of Savage and Haughty Garan, were prepared for the arrival of the metal men. 

None of them were prepared to fight against a well trained, heavily armed and armored force of Skeletons. Having no fear of death, Eregesh of New Sargon launched his assault against the hamlet of Fortune with a single decisive strike. 

They were outnumbered but that didn't matter to Eregesh. He knew the capabilities of his Combat Crew. Thirty of the best fighters and marksmen that struck fear into the warriors of the Holy Nation. 

Moving swiftly under the cover of night, the Combat Crew had made their journey to the hamlet known as Fortune and set up a perimeter. Eregesh sent N22 and Stem to scout it out and what they found was woefully inadequate to fend off even the smallest of raids. Sending out the entire Combat Crew may have been overkill...

But fuck subtlety. 

Eregesh sent the signal and led a part of his team to the southern entrance. He sent another Skeleton, namely Vortiger, to the north with Crusher and the rest. The Rangers were overlooking the settlement on a large hill to the west. Already the shouts and screams were getting louder, Gyran's crossbows making short work of the unarmored fleshbags that were trying to take cover. That was when the attack truly began. 

The first into the breach was Eregesh. As it was his right to lead, he would always be first in. His first victim, a young man in cheap leather armor running for the gate to try and close it before the enemy came, died with a crack of bone as Eregesh shattered his skull with a flying kick to the head. Honed by combat, and the outright cruelty of the Old World, Eregesh didn't break stride as his Skeletons clashed with the bandits of Fortune. Another enemy tried to shank Eregesh in the side, only to die as a long bolt from Gyran's Eagle Cross punched into his sternum. Eregesh gave a wave to the distant Loghead and dispatched another enemy. He saw Karoz utterly break a large greenskin with a single swing of his Meitou Moon Cleaver. Eregesh knew Karoz relished frontline duty and formed a solid core of his Combat Crew. Eregesh would have smiled had he been able to. 

Flexing his metal fingers, the Skeleton moved on. 

/

"W-Wait-hrrk!" 

The blade of Lionhead's heavy polearm crunched into the surrendering bandit's face. 

"Pathetic fleshbag!" Lionhead sneered as he stepped over the corpse. "You were no match for the mighty Lionhead!" 

"This was a milkrun, buddy." Sadneil said, hefting his plate mace onto his shoulder. "Relax." 

Lionhead looked over at his fellow skeleton. "Relax? I had hoped for worthier opponents to test my blade against! Surely you do not mean that you enjoy beating this...pathetic rabble?" 

Sadneil just shrugged. "It's a milk run." He repeated. "Besides, our glorious leader has his eye on bigger fish, so I wouldn't put it past him to start gathering enemies anyway. Just you wait." 

Lionhead scoffed as Sadneil moved on. This...piracy was always offensive but Master Eregesh wished to expand their territory. This...dusty old hamlet was clearly not something he wanted to conquer. Lionhead was prideful, as he knew he always was, and something so banal and easy like this raid irked him in ways that he did not like. He wished for more action, for glory, for-

"You're pissed aren't you?" 

Lionhead turned to his longtime companion's large singular lens. 

"Scout." He muttered. "I would like it if you did not read my mind." 

Scout just shook his head. "You were thinking out loud." He deadpanned. "And you're not some knight in some stupid human fairy tale. What's got you all worked up? I thought you wanted action?"

"Anything better than this!" Lionhead swept his arm out. "This...This is banditry! Not a noble struggle against a hated enemy." 

Scout just scoffed. "Baby steps, my ever impatient friend, baby steps." He said. Scout then nudged his head at the approaching Skeleton. "Someone needs you, Lionhead." 

Lionhead turned his attention to Igris, one of the lynchpins of New Sargon. "Yes?" 

"Need your help." Igris said, gesturing back where he came from. "It seems that the Boss found some slaves that needed liberating."

"And this pertains to me how exactly?" Lionhead asked. 

"Don't know, but he wants good fighters up there. We've got prisoners too apparently." 

Scout leaned his Oldworld bow on his shoulder as Lionhead glanced at him briefly before following Igris forward. Man, this day was just getting started and there were already complications to work through. 

Oh well. It beats sentry or heavy labor duty anyway. Scout was rather curious of course...

What did the Boss want with the Fleshbags? 


	5. Opportunities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first step to conquest has been taken. Eregesh liberates the hamlet of Fortune for New Sargon. Victory does not simply mean that he can relax however...as the presence of slaves taken by the bandits of the Black Dogs complicates things. Should he leave them to fend for themselves? Or would this be another opportunity for him to exploit?

V

Opportunities

_(Taken from the pages of **Tested Metal: The Chronicles of New Sargon** , the quintessential writings on the subject of Eregesh and his band of metal men written by Klaus Levantine, husband of Claudia Levantine.) _

_Many who are optimistic believe that Eregesh made the decision to attack the hamlet of Fortune, thus cementing his place as an enemy of the Black Dogs, out of the altruistic notion that all people do not deserve to be in chains as a slave. Those who believe that Eregesh stands against all slavery are uninformed at best and woefully ignorant at worst. He comes from a place where such evils as slavery is normal, and has recounted himself the many times that he had sent those who sought to enslave him and his once small band of old, rusty Skeletons to the same fate. He has acknowledged that his training camps, which involved the use of Black Dog prisoners of war as training dummies for new recruits, can count as something morally dubious. There are also the rumors that those particularly reviled traitors given to New Sargon are given over to the attentions of Eregesh's personal interrogator, Stem._

_It is a point of contention between Her Holiness, Celestine the Fair, and Lady Olga Discordia that Eregesh is rewarded not just with gold for his services but also the prisoners taken from battles with the Black Dogs. There are many who would argue that the Black Dogs deserve their fates for turning against the crown...but a fair and growing number argue against such cruelty for who is to say when Eregesh decides to turn his blades against Eostia's people?_

_And so, to say that Eregesh fights for the common good of all men is something of a joke within New Sargon. And those who believe otherwise have clearly not spent any time at all with the Skeleton himself._

* * *

Her husband was dead. 

And yet, she continued to live on. Karilla sometimes thought that dying would be the worst thing she could ever imagine. But living on after months of being used as a toy, to watch her children cry whenever she returned home a mess at night and knowing that even then she was not safe from predation...That was something she could never have wished on her worst enemy. And yet, watching the fat bastard who threatened to use her daughters as well, beg and cry for mercy at the hands of their supposed saviors was oh so satisfying. The brunette mother then looked at their...saviors. 

There were many who looked alike, but some were wholly different than others. These metal...things walked and talked like humans but she could not read any emotions on their strange heads. They resembled humans only marginally, for one of them was a veritable giant of near nine feet tall. Another had the face of some kind of insect and whenever it glanced coldly her way, she shivered. Karilla held her children tight as the one in charge, the one with a single eye and a ring around his head garbed in a long leather coat, glanced at her briefly. Karilla was no longer very optimistic; no doubt the bastard was calculating how much gold he'd get out of her ass. If he thought to enslave her once again, then he had no idea how hard she'd fight to avoid that fate. The metal man walked towards her, causing Karilla to wrap her arms tightly around her two daughters. She was exhausted, and she wished that this thing would get whatever he intended over with. 

Instead, the metal man gestured at her collar, the one the fat bastard put on her and her daughters personally. 

/

Slavery. 

It was also practiced here. Eregesh should have felt surprised but he found it no less disappointing. Eregesh knew that he was morally ambiguous. He himself had given those he had defeated over to slavers: Rebel Farmers, starving bandits that made the foolish decision to try and rob them, even Manhunters and Slave Hunters were not immune. Slavery was commonplace in the Old World, and profitable when one looked at the United Cities. Eregesh was averse to slavery, all free men were, but he was hardened enough by life in the Old World to not try and change it. 

The woman he looked down upon was a beauty in any right. Full and firm as any blooming mother was, Eregesh could see that even in the enraged scowl she gave him. The Skeleton did not feel anything but he could see that she had suffered for a long, long time at the hands of these bandits and she was seeking revenge. The ILM gestured to the collar on the woman's neck. That desire for revenge could be useful somehow, he just had to find the right time to do so. First things first, he had to free her from her status as a slave and to do that he would have to remove her collar. 

"What?" She asked hoarsely. 

"Your collar. I will take it off." Eregesh said neutrally. "Unless you think it is comfortable enough to wear..." He deadpanned after a long pause. 

The woman looked at him incredulously then offered her neck as Eregesh began quietly picking the lock on the collar with deft metal fingers. There was a click and the collar came off. Eregesh looked at it, tilting his head. Strange design but the woman used to have shackles as well. This wasn't the first time he had to pick locks but if anything he wished it was N22 or Stem with this woman right now. He reconsidered the wisdom of having Stem close to the traumatized townsfolk immediately. Good thing he was busy tallying up the prisoners. Eregesh turned his thoughts back to the outpost. Bombingham was going to be so busy but he would relish a challenge. There was a reason many considered him a master engineer after all...

"Boss." 

Eregesh turned to Karoz, Moon Cleaver leaning against his shoulder. It was obvious that he had been using it extensively considering the dried blood on the magnificent moon shaped blade. Eregesh turned back to the woman he just freed from slavery, keeping her now waking children from looking at the great blade. Eregesh faced Karoz pointedly who nodded in understanding and left the house to wait for Eregesh to emerge after he was done with his business. The ILM mark 2 made a sound similar to an exhalation, then grunted nonchalantly. He looked at the woman. "Your name?" He asked. 

"Karilla, my lord." The woman answered bowing her head low and not making eye contact. 

"I am no Lord." Eregesh corrected her. "Go join the other freed f-prisoners. I will talk to them shortly. Do you need help with...?" He gestured Karilla's sleeping children. 

"I can wake them, Lord." 

Eregesh sighed. Where was this 'Lord' shit coming from? 

* * *

"In total, we rescued most of the hamlet." Karoz said as he and Eregesh walked to one of the gates, the bodies of Black Dogs and greenskins lay scattered throughout the village. They chose this gate because there were less bodies. Eregesh was experienced enough to know that dealing with human children and the sight of dead bodies was already making another layer on a shit cake that no one wanted to take a bite out of. Considering that he had just found out that the Black Dogs weren't just slavers but also rapists, he'd at least make the attempt to not traumatize children any further. He had seen some sick fuckery back in the Old World when slavery was involved, most of it involving the cruel slavemasters and the decadent nobility in the United Cities but never like this. Or maybe he was looking at the past with rather bright eyes. He didn't know but one thing was certain: The Black Dogs weren't going to like what he did here, and their revenge would probably be coming soon the moment news reached them of what happened. 

"I'm going to assume that the rest were shipped somewhere else?" Eregesh commented off handedly. 

"Unfortunately yes." Karoz answered. 

"Which probably included the mayor. Right?" Eregesh asked as they approached the group of freed men, women and children. Compared to their Black Dog prisoners, which were few, they were still dirty and ragged but at least they were eating food from the Black Dog's provisions. It was a pretty standard procedure to keep slaves fed enough to stay alive but also to keep them from escaping, it was smart but it didn't really make you popular with the people you were selling. Eregesh sighed again. 

"Regardless, we're taking them with us." Eregesh said. 

Karoz turned to the Boss in surprise. "I thought you weren't in the business of recruiting fleshies?" He asked. 

"Well, this is our responsibility isn't it?" Eregesh said, a smile clear in his voice. "And they're humans, Karoz. You sound like a Southern Hiver." 

Karoz shrugged. "You sure about this? N22 might agree but N23 had reservations for a reason. We don't have any sustainable food to feed them." 

"We'll just have to make do with hunting until then." Eregesh said. "Once our...new recruits have recovered, we can assess their skills. See if we can find anyone useful, plus they might know a bit more about the territory." 

Karoz grunted noncommittally. "They don't look like they can keep up with us." He said looking at the shabby, disheveled men and women. "Hardly any fighters in this group. I could break all of them in two with one arm." 

"Your empathy is breathtaking, Kar." Eregesh deadpanned. "Let's see what they have to say." 

/

"Make no mistake. I am no savior. I am not a hero for the weak. I fight for conquest. I fight for profit. I am opportunistic and greedy. Some of you are angry, I can see that. Some of you despair at the thought of trading one horrible master to another, but be at ease for I can be just and fair or I can be callous and terrifying. We all have choices. You may choose to leave for greener pastures, I will not begrudge you that. I cannot offer much other than basic shelter, some food and water but if you choose to work for me I can guarantee that your choice will be well rewarded." 

Karilla heard the same shit before, but what other choice did she have? Greener pastures meant going South, which was in danger because of the Black Dogs and their greenskin lackeys, not to mention the complete inactivity of the nobility. Staying in this hamlet meant waiting for the next bandit lord or Black Dog to take over. Going with the metal men was worse because of the uncertainty for who knows what they intended to do with the people they liberated? She made her decision and stepped forward with her two daughters, still in shock over what had happened to their home. Months of torture was going to take their toll regardless. Noting that she had stepped forward, the leader who called himself Eregesh gestured in her direction. 

"That's one." He said to the small crowd of prisoners. "Anyone else?" 

Karilla heard several villagers murmuring. More stepped forward and Karilla honestly felt for them. They were choosing a new master to work with but he had been honest, which was a thought that an optimistic soul would have. Karilla knew the metal man was spewing bullshit but it was better than...than...

She didn't know what to think. 

"What is going to happen to us mother?" Mary asked her, her oldest daughter. Her eyes, once bright with enthusiasm, were dimmed by hopelessness. Her thin frame made it clear that food had been a privilege, not a right. Beside her, the youngest just buried her face into Karilla's side. 

"I don't know, my beloved." Karilla spoke honestly. 

"I really don't know." 

* * *

New Sargon. 

It took a full day's march but they had arrived. 

Karilla gaped at the sight of the Metal Men's home. Sitting in one of the carts, she noted that the ground was littered with corpses of not just orcs but also roving wildlife. Widlife that was being skinned and gutted for their meat by other Metal men. Metal men who had no heads. They were covered in armor and bore weapons. They worked meticulously, gathering raw meat and skins from the animal carcasses. Others were busy searching for signs of life among the humans and orcs, but whatever notion of good intentions Karilla initially saw was soon disproved. Karilla hid Mary's eyes as one of them put a sword through the gut of a man reaching out for help, the man was wearing a leather vest with the Black Dog's sigil emblazoned on the front and he died like an insect that a man scraped off the sole of his boot. Karilla noted grimly that there were bolts of some kind impaled in the earth, and looked at the watchtowers. No doubt they had archers at the top of those towers. 

"They are Thralls." A voice rumbled. Karilla looked to the left at the colossal red giant guarding the cart. The villagers around her shivered at the tone of the giant. Much like the headless men, the giant wore thick armor and carried an exotic curved blade on his back alongside a blunt weapon of some sorts hanging off of his hip. 

"Thralls? How are they even moving? They don't have a head." Karilla asked. 

"It is a rather complicated procedure but it can be done, Eregesh finds it somewhat distasteful however but understands their uses as cheap labor." The giant answered her, his single eye looking into her own. "Obviously it would not work on...fleshier races so to speak." 

"Who...Who are you then?" Mary piped up. "You know a lot." 

The giant rumbled. "I am Crusher. I am but a humble warrior of New Sargon." He bowed his head courteously then started as the gates began to open. "It is nice to meet you, Karilla and Mary of Fortune." 

The large caravan rolled through the gates. New Sargon was built upon the foundations of an old village on a hill. At the top of the hill was a large barn that served as the command building. There were other buildings being recently converted to other purposes as well. Karilla heard the sound of metal hitting metal, a smithy. She turned to see other Metal Men doing menial work like construction and demolishing buildings too ruined to be used properly. She saw a strange machine where a metal man put in some raw iron ore from a mine. Another sorted through plates and brought them up to another building. 

Karilla saw more wonders of industry even as the cart she rode in slowed down and people began to disembark. 

"Sir!" 

She watched as Lord Eregesh was approached by more skeletons, this one was more like an insect. He wore a strange iron hat and was dressed in far lighter clothing than the others. 

/

"Stubbs, I see that the outpost is still intact." Eregesh spoke to the Skeleton he left in charge. 

Stubbs was their main researcher, responsible for deciphering the tech they needed in order to prosper from manuals written by the Second Empire. As such, he had a lofty position within Sargon but he never really lorded it over anyone as he was too damned busy. Eregesh knew that he and Burn worked together consistently, with Burn having taken the official position of archiving their history. Eregesh wondered why but the old man always did seem to have a fondness for history. He personally didn't give a damn of course whether people remembered who he was but he let Burn have at it. 

"Yes sir. We've got steel production going well and the repair bay has been nearly constructed." Stubbs tipped his iron hat. He sounded cheerful and proud. "Bombingham and his crews have been working throughout the week, sir. I think this spot is even better than the last one." 

"Better how...exactly?" Eregesh was intrigued. That and Stubbs was talking faster than normal. 

"Fertility is off the charts. Shit, if it wasn't for the greenskins I'd have thought we settled in Holy Nation territory. But we got damn lucky." Stubbs saw the three carts of humans being disembarked. "Uh, Boss...are those guests?" 

"For the time being." Eregesh said as he saw what Stubbs was looking at. "They have chosen to work for us...for now though, I need a building set up as shelter for them." 

"We have a few beds..." Stubbs nodded his head in understanding. He wasn't going to question the Boss's decision but he knew there were those who would. No one would complain, there was a lot of work to do so more manpower was always appreciated even if they were of the fleshier races. "Some were scavenged and put in storage. I'll talk to Bombingham and Zero2 about bedrolls." 

"We also have prisoners." Eregesh gestured to the sorry looking bandits who were under guard by Igris and a few other skeletons of the combat crew. All of them were wearing the very same shackles they put on the remainder of the people of Fortune. "I want cages set up and campfires for dried meat. We'll feed them. Barely, of course." 

"We're getting into the slavery business now are we?" Stubbs asked. 

Eregesh turned to his researcher. "No. They're training dummies, like last time." 

"Ah..." Stubbs nodded. "I'll get right on it then. We won't have enough armor though." 

"Hence why we need campfires for the meat." Eregesh rolled his shoulder. His left arm, one that he lost in that stupid sparring match with Tinfist, needed to be looked at. He'd take care of it later as he approached the people of Fortune first. He'd get them squared away and then he'd take care of the prisoners.

* * *

_Welcome to New Sargon! I see that many of you belong to a group of such nice people with good intentions for the world. You want all men to live as kings, so I've heard from the people in the big house you see over yonder. They say that those that join you can fuck whatever woman they want. Well, we rescued a lot of those women. They're gonna be fine, upstanding members of our community here if they follow the rules. They'll get clothing, food and a chance for a new and better life._

_But_ _you poor, poor bastards are a different story! You seem to enjoy enslaving other people, so I'm just righting the scale because I enjoy the irony. Fair is fair right? But I wouldn't be so joyous about being alive, fleshbags. We will be putting your combat skills to use as training dummies for our new recruits! And trust me, I'm betting that they hate you as much as you hate me right now._ _Any training dummy who refuses to fight, loses the right to eat for the day. You maim a recruit, you get your ass beaten into a coma. Kill a recruit? I send you to Stem. Now, Stem has a hobby of skinning those that piss me off and using their skins as rugs. So fight hard, but don't think that you can escape. I have enough crossbow turrets here to turn you into a fucking pincushion._

_That and a lot of us can run faster than you sorry fucks, anyway. So relax, enjoy yourselves and remember this:_

_You brought this upon yourselves..._

_-_ Eregesh, making it clear to the Black Dogs that there is a new top dog in the Badlands. 


	6. Consolidation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Consolidation. Interviews. Hard work begins in the colony of New Sargon as Eregesh puts the fleshier recruits to work. Many are grateful, a lot are cautious and a feeling of optimism is apparent within their ranks. However, Eregesh must soon keep an eye on his back as the Black Dogs begin to realize that the Badlands were slipping out of their control. Meanwhile, news has begun to reach the ears of the Alliance of a new player in the war...

_(Taken from the pages of **Tested Metal: The Chronicles of New Sargon** , the quintessential writings on the subject of Eregesh and his band of metal men written by historian Klaus Levantine, husband of Claudia Levantine)_

_It is safe to say that Her Holiness, Celestine the Fair, had not expected a growing community fully capable of defending itself from the Black Dogs to emerge from the Badlands. Such an area has always been a concern for her, doing her best to make amends for those people in their self-imposed exile. When the Black Dogs began their traitorous attacks against Eostia they used the Badlands on our Northern borders as a kind of stepping stone into Alliance Territory. New Sargon had changed all of that because Vault's attention had been pulled elsewhere. Survivors of recent assaults by New Sargon constantly maintain that the Alliance had been the ones who had set up this self-sufficient colony. This is entirely untrue._

_As stated before in this book, Eregesh and his band of Skeletons came here through a strange series of events that had pulled them from their reality to ours. He has not been readily open to sharing that story but sometimes when he accepts an interview he makes references to the world they left behind. While his reflections are painted with the usual deadpan black humor evident in all Skeletons, sometimes Eregesh is struck with a strange melancholy whenever he makes references to a place known as the Floodlands._

_"I was born there." Was all he could say but to an astute observer, Eregesh's melancholy was made clear._

* * *

Grog. For many of the fleshier races in the Old World, Grog was piss weak rum made from Wheatstraw and Water that can cause you to go blind. It was a bitch to make, took too much Wheatstraw that could be used to make horrifically dry bread used in other more palatable but disappointing foodstuffs and generally did not sell very well. Still, it was common enough in many towns in the major territories of the United Cities, the Holy Nation and the Shek Kingdom and it was cheap. It was also, bizarrely, the only beverage that Skeletons can consume. Sadneil maintains that it was what kept a Skeleton going...but nobody could ever tell if he was joking or not. 

Regardless, Eregesh emptied the can of Grog in his hand before looking over at Karoz as the next recruit was summoned in. Oddly enough, he was not looking forward to this. 

"Send her in." He told Karoz. 

Karoz nodded and opened the door, "Karilla of Fortune." He boomed, startling those waiting and those already leaving. 

Eregesh tapped his fingers on the metal table as Karilla, the mother he rescued, sat on the box in front of him. She looked around the barn that was slowly being repurposed as New Sargon's headquarters and armory. It was slow work but it was steadily being not just fortified but also powered. There were still a few torch posts that needed replacing but the harsh lights of the electricals were lighting the place up. Eregesh tapped his fingers again, causing Karilla to jump slightly at the metallic sound. 

"So...How have you been?" Eregesh asked. 

"...Recovering, my lord." Karilla answered. "My daughters are also doing very well although they have chosen not to go outside with the other children for right now." 

"Rest assured, this is just a formality I mean no harm-" 

"With respect sir, cut the bullshit." Karilla said, keeping the stammer out of her voice with admirable courage. "What do you want from us?" 

Eregesh nodded his head. He could appreciate this straightforwardness coming from this woman. Was this why he had hoped she would stay? He didn't know yet but he could expect her to do great things in the future. "Alright then, I'll make it clear. I rescued you all and now you all owe me your lives. It is that simple. I won't stop anyone from leaving but I will make it clear: Endanger this colony in any way, and I will be most...displeased." He didn't need to make an overt threat, he knew Karilla understood because of the way she shrank back at the sight of Karoz standing in the room, arms crossed over his massive chest and Eregesh himself. 

The ILM Mark II leaned forward. "You wanted honesty, and the truth is often more frightening than lies." He told Karilla. "But enough about unpleasant topics. You are here because I wish to assess any skills that you possess." 

"S-Skills?" Karilla blinked first in confusion. She cleared her throat. "Well...I-I can cook. I can sew...I have also helped out on my family's farm with my-my husband..." She trailed off glassy eyed but she steeled herself to continue, but had to dab at her eyes with her hands. "I am open to do any work necessary..." 

Eregesh nodded patiently instead of letting her continue. "Good. Next question: Are you willing to fight?" 

Karilla looked at him incredulously. "What?" 

"Obviously not everyone is going to be happy or understanding as news of our outpost reaches their ears." Eregesh said, tapping the metal table again. "So all of Sargon must defend themselves, meaning that combat training must begin soon."

"So...we're your shields?" Karilla asked, eyes narrowed. 

"I am quite insulted that you would suggest that." Eregesh said casually causing Karilla to start backpedaling. He raised a hand before she could apologize for her "insolence". "As I said before, everyone I have rescued is free to leave. You can do so if you wish I won't stop you. But if you wish to stay, you have to work. You owe me that for saving your lives. I could have left you all there to be picked up by some other miserable fleshbag. I chose not to." 

Eregesh stared at her with his singular eye. "No. You are not our shields. You will fight alongside us. We can train you to defend yourselves. And rest assured, I am more concerned with the people I have under my command than with my enemies." 

"So...why do you have those...Black Dogs imprisoned then?" Karilla asked, her brown eyes locked onto his own. "Why are you feeding them and giving them armor?" 

Eregesh chuckled darkly. "They are going to be training dummies." He answered simply. "I find it more beneficial if training is done with live combat. Of course they won't get a real sword, that is of course very stupid. They'll get an appropriate weapon while you, meaning the trainees, will get your own weapon from our stores." 

Karilla looked behind Eregesh at the weapon cabinets and stands, no doubt ready to be festooned with various types of blades. She also glanced at the hilt of the sword poking over Karoz's shoulder. 

"So...what do you say?" Eregesh asked, catching Karilla's attention. 

She nodded. 

* * *

Days pass.

Lionhead crossed his arms as he watched the recruits line up in ranks. Ten young men and women. The older folk were not combat ready but still had skills to offer to Sargon. He was among one of the many observers watching the training bouts begin. Tassilo, Lance and Crusher were with him while Igris made the opening remarks. Lionhead looked at these poor bastards, all covered in standard grade leather armor and wielding a assortment of weapons. Hackers and polearms mostly although a few carried katanas. One had a Toothpick model crossbow, but was asked to join in the training exercise for today. 

"That's one brave bastard right there." Tassilo nudged his head at the crossbowman. 

"We'll see." Lance crossed his arms. "None of these kids are ready for what we have in store." 

Lionhead just looked at the miserable training dummies in their cages. They were unable to stop what was going to happen to them. One was already in heavy samurai armor and carried a shoddily made iron club. It may have been a crap weapon but it still hurt like a bitch. If the trainees could not take the hits, then they had no business holding a weapon. Simple as that. 

"Right, well let's get this show on the road." Igris spoke loudly catching everyone's attention. "Right now, you're not a farmer or smith or lumberjack. You're a soldier. While you are here, if we ask you to jump you ask us how high. This is not a clean job no matter what the stories tell you. On the opposite end of your sword is another guy with the same kind of weapon. Trust me when I say this: He or she wants to live just as much as you do, and if you're in the way of that they'll do whatever they have to." 

He turned to the line of recruits as Lionhead uncrossed his arms. 

"Who's first up?" 


	7. The Tempered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Black Dogs have owned the Badlands of Eostia, and no one was willing to stand against them...until now.

_(Taken from the pages of **Tested Metal: The Chronicles of New Sargon** , the quintessential writings on the subject of Eregesh and his band of metal men written by historian Klaus Levantine, husband of Claudia Levantine)_

_It is to be made clear that Lord Eregesh only joined the war on the Alliance side because of Vault's foolish attempts to intimidate the Skeletons of New Sargon into working for him. Eregesh fights only for profit and power, this side of him seems to have been lost in the more idealistic stories of his great deeds in the war against the Black Dogs. I shudder to think what would have happened to the Kingdom if he had deigned it fit for his fearsome Combat Crew to fight under the banner of the Black Dogs...for Eregesh wasn't just a wily profiteer but the battle hardened leader of a growing colony graced with willing recruits to his cause, veteran warriors who had stuck with him thick and thin and the will to fight alongside them. If anything, had Eregesh chosen to fight against us he would have become a mighty Warlord all the same._

_He does not boast of his newfound reputation however. In fact he seems to take it all in as a complete joke, and is even self deprecating in regards to his fame. "As far as I know," he told me when he was visiting the capitol city of Ken, "An old rusty labor bot like me had no business running around with other old, rusty skeletons making a fuss. It just ended up that way."_

_He'd then laugh but I shudder to think that he was lying._

_Warriors who were born to fight were terrifying enough._

_But the lowliest of the low rising to such infamy that he causes veteran warriors to tremble at the mere thought of fighting him?_

* * *

It was a blue sky today. Too bad she couldn't enjoy it as she was stuck in bed with an injured leg. Karilla sighed as she looked around at the beds around her, filled with recovering recruits holding more or less serious wounds from combat training. It had been a harrowing first week, but at least she got better than the gods-awful mess that was the first time she was up. New Sargon wasn't all bad, she mused as she tried to get comfortable. She spent most of her days now working on the Wheat farms, gathering up the crop for them to be used in cooking and grog distillation. After that she had pretty much the whole day for herself until nighttime, time that she spent talking with her children who were often also helping with menial tasks. The humans of New Sargon stayed close to each other but sometimes intermingling was seen in the outpost as it grew bigger. 

Winter had been a real surprise but Karilla supposed that it was understandable that Eregesh and his metal men did not know what snow was until the humans told them what was happening. It should have been funny but the Skeletons adapted, as per usual. Karilla heard the clanking noises and saw Eregesh himself walking in through the open door. He spoke with one of the Skeletons, Karilla didn't remember his name other than it being a series of letters and numbers, speaking briefly to him before turning his singular eye on her. 

He could have been smiling for all she knew, but she doubted it. Skeletons never smiled. 

"I see that you are recovering." Eregesh said as he pulled up a chair. He did it so casually for someone who was essentially a lord. And yet the Skeletons did nothing to give him any obeisance. "You fought well." 

Karilla snorted. "I lost my cool when that fat bastard implied that he was going to take care of me and my children." She stated. "And even then I lost." 

Eregesh twiddled his thumbs. She _knew_ he was smiling right now. She just couldn't see it. "You still stabbed him in the groin with your spear." He told her. "The pain killed him by the way. We're short one training dummy, but eh..." He shrugged his shoulders. Formidable, even in peace times. 

Karilla stared. "Why are you here, sir?" She asked. 

Eregesh turned his attention to her. He chuckled. "I seem to have taken responsibility for you in particular." He said. "I don't know why, but I have a good feeling that you're going to go a long way here in Sargon." 

Karilla scoffed at the thought. "I am a simple farmhand, sir. Not a great and mighty warrior or a wise and powerful sage." 

"Regardless, you did well in today's training session." Eregesh stood up. "Rest up, that was just the beginning." 

* * *

"Hey, Penlan?" 

Penlan adjusted the grip on the massive Harpoon Turret he was currently inspecting. "What? SR33?" He muttered. "What the hell do you see now?" 

"Riders." The other Skeleton said. 

Penlan looked to where his subordinate was looking. He saw a group of riders on the way. Huh. They had a flag raised so he wondered what they wanted...He then looked at the gates where there were still rotting corpses of orcs around. The Thralls had just finished skinning and gutting whatever poor animal wandered into turret range. Behind him, two young man had just finished hauling ammunition, giant crossbow bolts and harpoons capable of punching through armor and tearing off limbs. Penlan got their attention. 

"You two alert the boss." He told the pair sternly. "Tell him we've got visitors. I think they want to talk." When the two men nodded and quickly made their way down the watchtower, Penlan signaled the turret gunners on the other watch tower and primed his harpoon turret. The others did the same with the other mounted weapons. He heard the mechanical whirring as Beans armed their rapid fire, six barreled harpoon turret. Penlan swung his turret round and took aim, finger on the trigger. If Eregesh gave the signal, his men were ready to unleash hell. 

/

"Visitors?" Karoz asked Eregesh as they both made their way down to the gates. 

"They want to talk, assuming that Penlan's right of course. If they don't, they're dead." Eregesh stated. "Curious though...If it's another bandit group I wonder what made them want to talk? We harpoon anyone who makes a threatening move." 

"Perhaps they wish to discuss surrender." Karoz said, as he hefted his Moon Cleaver. "Regardless...I'm going with you. Even if you're a good martial artist, you won't do well fighting several people at once." 

Eregesh clapped his second on the shoulder and approached the gate. He looked to the watchman who nodded his head and made the signal to open the gate. As the gates rumbled open, Eregesh caught sight of the horsemen slowing to a stop, eyes wary as they beheld the walls of New Sargon and the gate opening. Karoz had quickly pulled his helmet over his head, encasing it in well built but ancient metal the color of rust. He walked at Eregesh's left, his Moon Cleaver already in hand. He oozed intimidation in his masterwork Samurai armor which caused no shortage of stress to appear on the riders' faces. They were all in pristine leather armor, each one bearing the sigil of the Black Dogs. Eregesh would have smiled had he been physically capable, what did these bastards want? 

In comparison, Eregesh visually represented the lower threat. He was capable of great violence with his bare hands sure but Karoz had a way of making brutality stick. 

He walked down a few feet away from the gates with Karoz at his side. He knew Penlan's gunners were tracking their "guests" and were ready to fire. He had also alerted N22 and N23 to ready the base for combat if blades were drawn. Honestly, he was expecting a time for them to test their metal but he was surprised it would be this soon. Maybe the waves he was making was far too powerful. Eregesh shook his head with a dire chuckle. Well, it was too late to slow down now. 

The gate closed behind them. Eregesh crossed his arm and called out. 

"What do you want?" 

/

Hicks wasn't sure what Vault wanted when he told him to gather up a few men for diplomatic duty, but he was the boss now so he had to obey. The rangy man was regretting his decision not to delegate this task to someone else now as he saw the thick walls that belonged to the upstarts that were causing troubles in the Badlands, which served as the Black Dogs' way into the southern kingdoms' territory. Hicks saw that the place was formidable, set up on a large hill with two watchtowers overlooking the main gate. No doubt each one was bristling with archers and lookouts. 

Hicks gulped as he saw the two figures at the gates which had closed ominously behind them. One was a humanoid, a metal one whose head consisted of a large single eye and a ring around it wearing a long leather coat the color of dust. The other was taller, massive even, wielding a glistening moon shaped blade and armored in rust colored but well designed metal. The armored figure was looking at them with such contempt that Hicks was tempted to have him run down, that desire tempered by the obvious threat of the watchtowers. Hicks felt eyes on him. 

"What do you want?" 

The voice was metallic, almost emotionless save for the small amount of amusement. Hicks felt his hackles rising. 

"You've been causing trouble here." Hicks said as he moved his horse forward. "You know who we are, so maybe we can discuss things inside before-"

The metal man laughed. It was a buzzing noise that caused Hicks and his men to tense up. 

"I think not." The metal man replied, denying Hicks's request. "You came here to say something. So say it before I decide to have my men start shooting." The threat was overt, made with no hesitation even with facing the wrath of the Black Dogs. Hicks nervously glanced at the watchtowers, noting individuals handling massive crossbows and other machines that shot sharp objects at devastating speeds. 

Hicks snarled. "You think you can threaten the Black Dogs, you freak!? I'll have you made into chamber pots for the rest of the guys coming here, so-" 

The metal men made a gesture. 

_Thunk!_

Hicks saw it at the corner of his eye but he didn't believe it was actually happening. The Black Dogs had owned the Badlands for months, no one dared to oppose them even when they fought under Celestine the Fair's crown. Hicks knew that times had changed now, when a crossbow bolt the length of an ogre's arm punched into the chest of one of his riders. The man died in shock at what had just happened, falling to the ground in a boneless heap. Hicks heard the gunners on top of the watchtowers begin opening fire on his men, those who had wheeled their mounts about face were lucky to even make it a few feet away before dying to brutally accurate turret fire. Hicks was suddenly thrown off of the back of his horse as the beast panicked. He lay on the ground in pain and shock at the fact that someone dared to fire on him. _Him!_ The Black Dogs' herald who struck fear into those who thought to stand against Vault's will! 

Hicks was spared of the carnage, still in shock as his last man died when a harpoon punched through his head, and his horse, killing both instantly. 

"Do you know why I did this?" 

Hicks turned his head to look at the metal man in the leather coat. "It's easy really. Most tyrants think that nothing can stop them." 

The metal men crouched next to him, conspiratorially, as if ready to share a truth few would know. "You think me to be some noble hero, standing up to evil. That I'm some chosen one sent out to defeat you guys...but I'm not." The metal man continued. Hicks heard the gate open and saw more metal men marching out. Most of them didn't have a head and wore thick armor. The one in the lead was another metal man. This one had the visage of some kind of locust and he scanned the area, as if looking for something. 

"You see...I'm a simple man. I like money. I like power." The metal man said. "Your boss's spiel about every man being a king was pretty amusing, I learned this from your men by the way, but I find it rather funny how much you fleshbags seem to think you're in control just because you carry a sword." 

"But power isn't something granted because you can sling a sword around, power isn't granted because you proclaim that every woman should serve every man. Power isn't given because some preening fleshbag says he is a king." The metal man said. "Power cannot be given...It must be taken. I take it that the Black Dogs are very powerful? Good. I like taking power from the very powerful. I did this back home...and I found that I enjoyed it." 

"Y-You fucking crazy bastard!" Hicks shrieked. "What are you!?" 

The metal man chuckled again. 

"Welcome to New Sargon." He said. "Trust me, you won't enjoy your stay." 


End file.
